


Henrietta Potter and the Secret of the Horcrux

by Advena_Phillips



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Female Harry Potter, Female Neville Longbottom, Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Horcruxes, Magic, Under the Influence of Horcruxes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Advena_Phillips/pseuds/Advena_Phillips
Summary: '… by definition, Horcrux's are somewhat sentient. They, being a shard of the soul, have enough intelligence to defend itself to the best of its abilities…'- Secrets of the Darkest Art





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found on Fanfiction.net at: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12080168/1/Henrietta-Potter-and-the-Secret-of-the-Horcrux

"Mum!" whined the second widest member of the quartet that walked through the snow covered forest, "My feet are wet!"

"Oh, my Duddikins." 'Duddikins' mother said, placing two placating hands on the boys shoulders, "Vernon, we should go back before he gets a cold."

"Wet feet are all part of the experience, Tunie." replied the third, and largest, of the group, "Don't worry, I packed another pair of socks and shoes for you, Dudders."

The fourth, smallest, and often ignored member of the family looked on impassively. It would not do to snicker at the pig of a boy, and it was certainly not worth the retaliation that would certainly come.

This group went by the name of Dursley, well at least the first three, and they thought of themselves as perfectly normal. Though the fourth member was considered by all those around her, sevearly lacking in the 'normalcy' department. Compared to 'Duddikins' mother, a thin equine-like woman was Petunia Dursley née Evans; her beefy husband, Vernon Dursley, who's only noticeable feature was the bushy mustache; and finally their five-year-old son, Dudley 'Duddikins' Dursley, who looked ever so much like his father, if only more overweight.

Finally, related only by the blood of Petunia, was the soon-to-be-five-year-old Henrietta Lily Potter. A small twig-like girl who, unbeknownst to her, had inherited much of her mother's looks, including the distinctive emerald eyes. The only feature she had inherited from her father, was the jet-black hair that fell down her back in an untameable mess, a trait that drove Patunia mad. She was quite proud of her looks that differentiated herself from the Dursley's, though the only feature she disliked about herself was a thin lightning bolt scar -one that the Dursley's insisted was because of a car accident that killed her birth parents. She doubted it.

As the Dursley's walked down the path at a steady pace, the raven-haired chose to skip around the path. Moving from the right to the left of the track, eyes shining with excitement.

It was a week ago that the walk was announced. Vernon had come home after a long day of work and announced it to the household during dinner.

"My boss has given me some time off work," he had said, digging into a roast pork that had been cooked, thankfully, by Petunia.

"Why is that, dear?" Said woman replied.

"Well, he said that I should get out more, enjoy the outside world while I could. Of course, I thought we could go out golfing together. But, no," he scoffed, "he gave me a brochure for nature walks."

And so, the Dursley's had decided to go on a walk, specifically to the Grizedale Forest, off in the Lake District. Of course, that was also the night Dudley threw his biggest hissy fit to date.

As always, Henrietta would be dropped into the lap of Miss Figg, a woman who smelled a lot like wet cat . Coincidentally, she owned half the population of cats in Surrey. But after injuring herself trying to coax one of her pets from a tree, she was in no condition to care for the child. So, the Dursley's, not wanting to admit defeat, chose to call up a couple of babysitters. Twenty declines later, and the last of the Potters was reluctantly allowed to join.

Now the Dursley's plus one were walking around the National park, Henrietta up front as the more athletic of the family and Dudley far behind. She swore that every time the whale of a boy took a step the rocks and pebbles nearby shook.

Eventually, they had reached their way deep into the forest where they set up a little picnic. Henrietta had two pieces of her 'special bread' also known as stale bread and some butter, whereas Dudley practically had a feast of some leftover fast food from the night before. Petunia, had a Caesar salad as Vernon and his son tucked into the various meats.

As the rest of her family ate, Henrietta looked around the wooded area, watching some animals as they skittered across the snow covered ground. A cool breeze caused her to shiver, so she wrapped her overly large hand-me-down clothes around her to stave of the cold. Silently, she thanked the man for his so called 'gift', not that he noticed of course. The large shirt -big enough to pass as a dress as Vernon had informed when she received it- folded in on itself acting as a second and third layer of clothing.

The day was quite peaceful, Henrietta noticed, apart from Vernon telling her in no too few words that any 'funny businesses' would not be tolerated before leaving for the hike; Dudley tripping her to get to the car first; and the same boy being a general awful traveling companion, not much had happened today. So, she enjoyed the day out with her relatives.

That is until it was time to leave. It was in the evening when Henrietta finished packing up most of the picnic supplies and the quartet began trekking back to the car. The raven-haired girl was certain that all the animals in the surrounding area had fled due to the amount of complaining that Dudley was dishing out. Every step it seemed that something was wrong; "My feet are wet." "My shoelace is untied," "How much further?", and every time he complained, Petunia would try and cheer him up.

It was times like these that made Henrietta question the near unbreakable wills of the two adults who took each complaint in stride. Eventually, Dudley stopped his complaining, choosing to sulk at the back of the group because Petunia dared to tell him to be patient.

Of course, that could not last at all. Soon, Dudley decided he had enough of Henrietta's stamina and ability to, not, complain about the cold and wetness of outdoors, and wanted to deal with it.

"Hey!" massive intake of air, "Freak!" another intake of air, "I… want to show you… something!" Dudley called out, pausing to take another breather.

Upon hearing her nickname, Henrietta paused, looking back at the far off Dudley, then carefully made her way back towards the overweight child. Passing the two adults, she found Dudley leaning on a tree. I'm sorry tree, that you have to deal with such a weight leaning on you. She thought.

But before any of them could get a word out, a pained chirp sounded out from nearby. So instead of talking to her tormentor, Henrietta decided to investigate. Dudley also seemed interested in what had interrupted him from bullying his freak of a cousin. Walking -waddling for Dudley- around the tree, Henrietta spotted the creature making the sound. It was a small bird, near the size of her own hands.

She also noticed something that made her stomach twist. Now Henrietta was not of age to go to school, but she was still quite knowledgeable of many things. If she was not being picked on by Dudley's friends or being made to do chores, she was usually found in her cupboard under the stairs with a secret stash of the book she had stolen from around the house. The Dursley's had a surprising number of books that ranged from science, construction, to even wildlife -most of which looked suspiciously new. She had learned to read at a very young age completely on her own; it was as if the meaning of words just flashed into her mind.

So, she read. Besides her, nobody in the house really read; Vernon was quite content with his newspapers, Petunia with her gardening, cooking and occasional trashy romances, and Dudley would avoid books like the plague. If Henrietta was to hazard a guess, they only had these books to reinforce the idea that they were a normal family that reads books just as much as they watch television. She was just happy that they didn't really pay much attention to the filled bookshelf.

So when she saw the blood stained snow, she knew something was wrong. She knew that the red liquid was meant to be inside of you, not out. Looking closely, she could see that the puddle was growing at a steady rate. If the bird didn't get medical attention soon, it would die.

"Ew!" Dudley squealed in disgust, moving away from the dying bird.

Giving the squeamish boy a sidelong glare, Henrietta picked up the bird, using her oversized shirt as a makeshift glove. She cooed quietly to the bird in her hands. Though, just before she turned around to go see if her aunt and uncle would take it to a vet, she felt two large and chubby hands shove against her back.

"Freak!" she heard Dudley yell and before she knew it, she landed on the ground with a muffled crack-splat. Her thoughts went straight to the bird as she flipped herself over, a choice she regretted. Even though she was underweight for a four-year-old, she was still heavy. So when Dudley pushed her over, the bird was stuck between the snow on the ground and the thin body of Henrietta, it didn't stand a chance.

Henrietta stood, horrified at the broken form of the deceased bird she had moments ago tried to save. Blood stained the snow around the bird once more and the last Potter sported a similar sized blood stain on her chest.

Looking up, she saw that the two adults of the family had joined the two manned concord in the forest -probably because of the squealing Dudley- and was staring down on the stunned girl with disgust and fear. But the heat death of the universe could happen before Henrietta would even care at the moment. Slowly, she turned her head with a contemptuous sneer upon her face towards Dudley. They all paled considerably.

Hate filled her very being as she glared at the lump of a boy who was scrambling towards his mother. But before he could, an invisible force slammed into him, throwing him into a nearby tree with a crack.

And the world descended into madness. Vernon was shouting bloody murder at the four-year-old, Petunia rushed over to Dudley to see if he was okay. He was unconscious and bleeding, his femur was sticking out of his skin. Petunia looked over to see Vernon advancing on the freak, hands raised with malicious intent.

But before he could reach the child, a loud, magically enhanced shout made the family pause. "Leave. Me. Alone!" Had Henrietta been in a different state of mind, she would have noticed the forest seemed to die at that moment, the only thing moving was the enraged four-year-old, the only sound was the deep breaths of the same girl. "You all hate me, so just leave," she made a dramatic gesture towards the way they were travelling, "and forget about me!"

Henrietta just wanted to be alone, away from that hell of a family. She knew she hadn't been on the planet for long but she knew that the way she was raised was not normal -visions of how she was treated flashed before her eyes.

It was this fateful day that she would get her wish, because, unbeknownst to her, she was in fact, a witch, just like her parents before her. And on this fateful day, she had she had performed multiple feats of accidental magic. The most obvious of the magic she had used was something called a 'banishing charm' sent at Dudley, the others were not as flashy: The eyes of the two still conscious Dursley's glazed over before they picked up their broken son and headed back towards their car. They would head back to the city and to the hospital for Dudley to be healed. When asked how the boy had been injured, all they could do was answer dumbly that they did not know. The last was less of a spell, but still very magical; a wave of power swept across the Ile's as all non-magical recordings of Henrietta Lily Potter disappeared without a trace.

Henrietta, not noticing her 'Guardian's' actions, ran off deep into the forest. She did not stop until her feet gave out from underneath her, falling to the floor and began to cry. She didn't know why the Dursley's hated her. Well, that would not be entirely true; They had told her many times that they hated her because she was a freak, just like her late mother and father. But besides those venom filled words, she got no explanation.

...

It was cold. So very cold. Night had fallen, and snow had soon followed. Henrietta was hungry, but that was the least of her problems. It was cold, and if that survival novel she read was correct then she wouldn't survive long. Her breathing was slowing as frostbite set in, and before long she was in and out of consciousness.

Unbeknownst to her, a little shard of life was trying to figure out how to keep its host alive, ensuring its own survival. See, this little shard of life was a piece of a Dark Lord's soul, Voldemort. As it was, James and Lily Potter did not die in a car accident, but were really killed by a Dark Wizard who fancied himself a Lord. This Dark Lord was also the cause of the scar upon Henrietta's head.

The scar, in actuality, was a little thing was known as a Horcrux, a sliver of someone's soul forcibly removed and anchored to an item or host to grant eternal life. However, one could not simply pick up a pebble and turn it into a Horcrux, because the creator must have an attachment to the anchor for any magic to take effect.

Now the peculiar, and sometimes forgotten, thing about a Horcrux, was that it was intelligent -it had to be if it wanted to defend itself. Commonly, Horcruxes were inanimate objects such as pennies, rings, necklaces, things like that; in rare cases, they were animals; finally, the rarest and most unorthodox kind, were sapient hosts. The idea of a sentient hosts had been said by those who practised the art to be the stupidest hosts you could ever choose to bind a soul shard to.

Object and non-sapience had limited free will or none at all in most cases of the former. An object was static, you could hide it and not worry much if you were smart about your hiding place. Animal horcruxes were more of a mutually beneficial deal, both would get immortality, with the host also gaining increased intelligence and the creator complete control over it.

As for sapient hosts, they were problematic. In principle, they acted much like an animal host but with a few key differences. Along with intelligence, sometimes abilities or power would bleed over, not only that, but it still had free will. With this, the host could become a formidable foe if they chose to stand against the creator.

That alone was reason enough for everyone in the last millennia to avoid creating a horcrux from a sapient host. As such, not much was known about it.

Voldemort never planned to turn Henrietta into a horcrux, he had a different object in mind, but when the spell sent to kill her as a baby struck, it backfired. His soul was split, and without any direction, it latched onto her. It was then that the soul shard found a previously unknown ability: Merging. Souls were never meant to be split, so when a shard is ripped free from the 'master soul' it seeks to return, but it also has the ability to merge itself with its hosts soul. What effect it would have, it had no idea, but in this moment there was little choice -No amount of accidental magic could save little Henrietta as she succumbed to the freezing temperatures.

Finally, the soul shard made its choice. If its host was dying from the cold, it would need to turn up the heat. So the Horcrux did something no other of its kind had ever done before. It merged itself with her soul.

Two became one with all the consequences that would ensue.

Just before Henrietta lost consciousness for what would have been the last time, her world went up in dark red flames. The fire did not spread nor smoke, but the flames continued to burn the area around her. The snow sizzled and evaporated, the ground below became scorched, yet all Henrietta felt was blissful warmth surround her.

...

The entirety of the national park was covered in a thick blanket of snow, a forested winter wonderland. That is, everywhere but a small area deep in the national park; a twenty-foot circle of snowless, scorched land. In the centre, was the prone form of Henrietta, looking completely untouched by the inferno that had blazed around her that night.

The child tossed and turned ever so slightly before waking with a gasp. Her sleep had not been the most pleasant, not because of the hard ground she slept on -it was actually quite comfortable, if she said so herself- but because of a recurring dream. Shrill laughter echoed in her mind as a woman screamed, then a bright flash of green that blacked out the entire scene. Only two glowing red eyes remained.

Looking around she found herself still in the forest, noting the strange scorch marks around her. Henrietta shivered as a tingle spread throughout her body making her feel all warm inside. Though, this was not the only thing she was feeling as a wave of relief and freedom settled over her mind. She was finally away from the Dursley's if her memory served her correctly.

A low growl startled the child before she realised that the cause was her stomach. Before her belly had interrupted, she had wholeheartedly agreed that leaving the Dursley's was the best choice. Now a part of her really regretted running away, at least then she would have been fed at the Dursley's... no matter how little.

"What was that?" a small, silky voice asked. Henrietta would say it was perfectly reasonable the way she had reacted. The raven-haired girl had thought she was alone, then out of nowhere a voice spoke up. So, she screamed, looking around for whoever spoke.

She found no one.

"Silence!" the voice hissed, clearly feminine. This time, she had been expecting some sort of response, so she continued scanning the area, that was until something moved in her peripheral vision. Looking to the disturbance, she found a snake, reared up and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"A snake?" Henrietta said aloud, completely forgetting the voice she had heard only a few seconds ago. I thought all the snakes had gone into hibernation.

However, it was not the time to be thinking about snake hibernation schedule, as the snake went from aggressive to comically shocked, as if someone had just stepped in it's pudding -not that Henrietta would know what it's like.

"It speaks!?" the voice shouted, though this time she could pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It was coming from the snake, who coincidentally had its mouth wide open, and its eyes practically bulging out of its scaly head.

Henrietta looked at the serpent for a moment, her mind trying to wrap its head around the scene playing out in front of her. "You… can speak?" she asked eventually, her face mirroring the snakes.

"I thought speakers were legends…" the snake replied, awe resonating of each syllable.

"I…I…What?" the raven-haired girl, though still a child, had a very mature outlook on life. An unnaturally mature outlook. This often created a wider divide between the Dursley's and herself, so she often hid it along with a majority of her life. With this mature outlook came a strong belief in reality. She knew the difference between reality and fiction; speaking to snakes was most definitely a fictional ability that did not occur in real life.

"You are a speaker of the tongue of serpents..." the snake seemed to be handling the knowledge that she could talk to snakes as well as she was.

Eventually, her mind couldn't take it anymore and decided to shut down, leaving only the basic functions running. "Hello, my name is Henrietta Potter…" she said.

Obviously confused, the snake decided to play along, "I… was not born with, as the humans call it, a 'name.'"

Henrietta looked at the snake for a while before saying "Mara".


	2. Chapter 2

The serpent looked up at the girl, an unreadable expression on its face, "Mara?" it hissed, "What is a Mara?"

"You said that you didn't have a name, so I gave you one," Henrietta replied simply, having decided to deal with the easiest problem first.

"Why?" The snake asked confused.

"It would be rude to call you, 'snake,'" answered Henrietta, "I also watched something on the telly and they had a massive snake called Mara." She continued, remembering the times she had managed to sneak out of her cupboard to watch the telly while the Dursley's were asleep.

"Mara…" Spoke the snake as it testing it on its forked tongue, "Thank you, Speaker."

This time it was Henrietta who was confused, having heard Mara reference her as the 'Speaker' moments before, "Why do you call me, Speaker."

"You are a Speaker, are you not? It was a tale I had been told many times before, of a human who could speak the noble tongue of serpents." The serpent explained, "Someone with incredible power that could bend the world to their will."

The snake's explanation did not help in the slightest, "… I don't understand."

"You humans think us snakes as solitary creatures." Mara said suddenly after a moment pause, "We are, but here in this forest, we have some form of society, supposedly built by the First Speaker. Follow me and I will take you to the Elder, she can tell you more."

Henrietta hesitated slightly as she saw the snake start moving off into the forest. I just had a conversation with a snake… She thought hollowly and as if suspended by the now ended conversation, her grip on reality faltered.

She was scared and confused, unable to understand most of what was going on. One part of her, cultivated by the Dursley's, thought that Vernon would return, just to lock her in her cupboard for being a freak. Another thought that she was insane or hallucinating.

Ultimately, she listened to neither side. Henrietta felt strange, almost as if she was underwhelmed by the events. She would have thought that there would have been quite a lot more screaming, crying or anything else when confronted with something as strange as a talking snake. But no, she just felt… strange.

Standing up, Henrietta followed Mara through the white forest. It wasn't a difficult task as Mara, while without legs, could get through most if not all obstacles in her way, her dark green scales gliding over the snow. The unlikely duo walked in relative silence, only speaking when the snake would give her instructions to traverse the forest.

At one point during their walk, Henrietta felt the oddest of experiences, a strange tingling sensation like an electric jolt coursed through her. She only stopped for a moment before continuing when she saw that the snake seemed unaffected by whatever it was.

Eventually, the duo reached their destination. A small warm clearing up against a large stone megalith. The clearing was walled off by large intertwining trees that blocked most of what was behind them, leaving only a small amount of room for light to shine through. Still, this was not the strangest thing that she could see in the forest. That award belonged to an odd flat stone.

Odd, because it was not covered in snow, much like the rest of the forest beyond the clearing. In fact, not much of anything in the clearing was covered in snow. There was also a snake atop it.

It was a large albino snake, easily twice the size of Mara, who was as long as Henrietta's arm. The snake, however, seemed to be sleeping, having not moved an inch when the duo entered the clearing.

Mara, upon spotting the albino, slithered in urgency towards it, hissing all the way, "Elder, Elder! I have news."

The snake, now identified as 'Elder' lifted it head lazily, pausing only to stare Henrietta in shock. "Why have you brought a human here?" it hissed, sounding much like an old lady.

Henrietta felt herself shrink under the gaze of the Elder, feeling as if she had just gotten in trouble with Vernon's grandparents.

"She is a Speaker," Mara hissed back, "I found her resting in the forest. She was an incredible source of heat." she noted.

The older snake's eyes seemed to bulge at the mention of a 'Speaker'. The Elder's head drooped in an awed yet guarded expression. "You, human, are you the Speaker?"

The child looked towards Mara nervously for a moment, before hesitantly responding in confirmation, "Yes?"

"So… the Speaker is here…" The albino snake said.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what a Speaker is."

"You don't know of your heritage?" The snake inquired, looking as concerned as a snake could.

"I-I don't even know what's going on." Said the green-eyed girl, looking more lost than she had ever been before.

"Everything is okay, Speaker," Mara said, trying to calm the child who looked as if she would bolt at any second.

"No!" She shouted back, "No it isn't. I don't know what's going on!"

"It is okay, Speaker. I will explain everything." Henrietta made a noise that was neither a deterrent or encouragement. The albino snake continued, "Elders upon Elders have been placed in charge of protecting this place from those without the gift. Centuries ago, the First Speaker, someone who's name has been lost in the annals of time, came to this place and called it his home. Using a strange and archaic power, the Speaker built this clearing, created this stone I lay on as a doorway leading to his crypt.'

"We Elders have been waiting years, upon years for the return of the Speaker. Yet with each Elders passing, more and more of our kind lost faith. Until now. You being here is not by happenstance."

"…What does this mean for me?" She asked.

"It means that we have been waiting for you." The Elder explained, "We, placed in charge to protect this place from intruders, but to also guide the Speaker to the First's resting place. Behind me is a hidden doorway, it was said that all the Speaker had to do was to ask the door to open, and the entrance will reveal itself. I have no idea what lies beyond, but I will tell you now that it will not hurt you."

Nodding, Henrietta thought as she gazed up at the massive stone slab that was said to be the doorway. She really had no idea what to do. She was sitting down in a clearing with two talking snakes who told to enter a strange place. She had no idea what to do; none of her experiences in life had any answers to what she was to do.

But… you've come this far. A small voice in her head said. Finding no fault with that line of thought, Henrietta rose off the ground, dusting the small bits of dirt attached, and headed towards the stone slab.

All I have to do is ask the door to open. Henrietta paused, taking a small breath before she spoke, "Could you please open, door?" she asked, immediately feeling stupid. However, any feeling of stupidity left when the stone seemed to comply.

The sound of grinding stone grated on Henrietta's ears. Taking a closer look at the slab of stone, she could start to see lines begin to etch themselves onto the surface of the stone. Large, intricate lines and curves continued forming until it was left with two large rectangles in the centre of the stone; both with a stylised serpent superimposed onto the intricate lines and arrays etched on the surfaces.

The raven-haired child took a step back in shock, hearing hisses of surprise coming from the snakes behind. Tenderly, the young girl ran a hand down the entrance that had appeared, half expecting it to disappear at the slightest touch. But instead of disappearing, the two doors swung open ominously, revealing a small dark room. Another pair of doors stood at the end, though smaller than their counterparts. To the left of the doors, was a circular stone pedestal with a little indent in the centre.

"I guess it was more literal than we assumed…" the Elder hissed, staring deep into the dark room, yet not moving further than the entryway. "I am not permitted to enter the room, nor is the little one. Speaker, you must explore alone."

Henrietta nodded in understanding as she tried to open the second entrance. At first, she tried asking the door, however, it did not work. Next, she tried pushing it, but it did not budge. Huffing in annoyance, the green-eyed girl took a step back and examined the rest of the room to see if she had missed anything. Every time she tried looking for something, her eyes always wafted to the plinth.

It stood about waist height with a flat top, with several stylised snakes wrapping around the base. She would have assumed it was a table, however, the indent in the centre told her there was more to it than she would have thought. Henrietta continued to explore the pedestal until her finger brushed against the dip.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, ripping her hand from the pedestal in pain. A closer look saw that her finger was bleeding slightly. Her examination of the injury was quickly stopped as a soft silver glow lit up the room. When Henrietta looked back at the pedestal, she found it gone. What more, the door appeared to have opened, revealing a dark rectangular room.

From the doorway, Henrietta could see that the floor of the room beyond was only accessible by the staircase leading down. At her level, she could see quite a few crevices with statues of everything from dragons, to snakes, to men in armour, each lit up by the eerie silver glow. The ground floor was set up with three doors leading to other rooms, one on the opposite side of the staircase, and the other two on the left and the right of the chamber. A dining table sat in the centre of the room covered in quite a heap of paper and books. On the lower half of the room where a veritable library of books, filling up several bookshelves.

Henrietta felt a jolt of excitement at the amount of reading material she found.

The room looked as if it had not been touched in centuries with the only thing that showed signs of activity was a silver candle burning brightly on the desk. Against better judgment, Henrietta carefully descended the staircase, hating how each step seemed to echo around the room. Eventually, she reached the glowing candle and found that it seemed to be lighting up a small book and a spilt inkwell.

Luckily, at least for the child's curiosity, the book was undamaged by the ink. Upon turning to the book, she almost assumed that it was written in a different language. Though, it soon clicked that is was just written in extremely well-penned calligraphy. From what Henrietta could understand, the page it was on was on the topic of the ever-changing political climate and the modernisation of something.

The raven-haired girl could not understand most of what was being discussed as she flipped through the book. Some of the time it seemed as if the language it was written in was some form of old English, and other times they used strange words that she had no idea what meant. At some parts, the book even read like a fantasy novel. Yet, after the past two days' events of talking snakes, self-caring stone and strange silver flames, she added it to the list of strange happenstances that have occurred and moved on.

Henrietta was about to move on to another part of the room, but before she could get started, a hissing whisper echoed in the silent room, "Light!"

Then, as if by command, green and silver flames burst to life behind the stone statues, bathing the entire room in light. Henrietta let out a strangled squeak of surprise, nearly dropping the book in the process. Her eyes shifting around the lit room, Henrietta looked for any signs of movement, half expecting a giant serpent to barge in and gobble her up. Though, when she did spot movement, it was not of the snake kind.

Two curtains above the furthest door flung open revealing a portrait of a balding elderly man with monkey-like features. Henrietta was not one who enjoyed art, however, she could see the masterwork that was required to paint the picture. Then the picture moved. "Identify yourself!" the paintings voice boomed, a hiss hidden behind his words.

Scared and shocked, the raven-haired girl squeaked out of reflex, "Henrietta!"

"A Child? My enemies sent a child to destroy me!?" He bellowed, glaring daggers down at the girl below.

Backing away, hitting her back against one of the chairs, Henrietta responded, eyes fixated on the impossible portrait "N-no… no!"

"Tell me, child… how did you enter this place?" Hissed the portrait, eyes narrowed.

"The snakes," Henrietta blurted out, "They … they told me to!"

"You can understand them too?!" He asked surprised.

"… Yes," she replied weakly.

"Why didn't you tell me!" Boomed the portrait, his features turning softer than before., "My deepest apologies for frightening you, my child. I am Salazar Slytherin."

Henrietta forced herself to calm down before she responded, "Hello, Mister Slytherin."

"Professor Slytherin, please. I was a teacher before my colleagues removed me from my school." He explained, his tone turning bitter at the mention of his colleagues. "Now, may I ask where your parents are? I would very much like to meet them."

"They died. Apparently in a car crash." The raven-haired girl said, her tone dictating exactly what she felt about the fact. When she grew old enough to ask, she had received a swift and aggressive rebuttal from both of her guardians, something that seemed out of place compared to how they normally acted. It was quite simple to disregard what those two said about her parent's death.

"Oh… I am sorry for your loss." The painting said remorsefully.

"It's okay," The green-eyed girl said, before amending, "I was too young to remember them."

"… however, I must ask. What is a 'car crash'?" Salazar asked.

Henrietta stared at the portrait for a moment before answering, "A car crash? It's when a car… crashes."

"And what is a car?" He asked, ignoring the cheek in her answer.

"… You don't know what a car is?" Replied Henrietta, bewildered by the talking painting.

"I confess that I don't actually know how long I have been here. Actually, what year is it?" He questioned.

"… 1985," Henrietta said after a moment of thought.

"Oh my… it seems I have been here for longer than I had thought… so, what is a car?" He asked once again.

Henrietta filed away that piece of information and continued to answer the question, "...A car is a… box on wheels. People enter them and it takes them places." she answered, only hesitating to try to put it into simplistic words. It would not do to use such big words for a portrait.

"So it's like a broom…" Salazar surmised.

"A broom?" she echoed in confusion. A… A broom?

"Yes. The flying sticks with even more sticks attached at the end. Muggles use them for sweeping." He explained dryly, but at her still confused expression, he ended, "Don't you have those."

"We don't have flying brooms… Only witches have them." Henrietta replied.

"You're not a witch?" He asked, his eyebrow raising to his brow.

"Of course not!" Replied Henrietta truthfully. "My aunt and uncle don't believe in magic."

"I hope Gryffindor is rolling in his grave." He hissed softly, glaring at nothing. After a moment, he turned back to Henrietta, his face softening once again, "Tell me, have you ever seen anything that you couldn't explain. Done something that seemed impossible."

"My uncle usually locks me in my cupboard if something like that happens," Henrietta said offhandedly.

"… your … 'cupboard?'" The portrait said slowly, his features seeming to darken despite the brightness of the room.

"My bedroom." She said simply.

"And where might these muggles be now?" asked the painting, the tone of his voice sending shivers up her spine.

"I don't know… I was left in the forest alone." Replied the raven-haired girl.

Salazar looked as if he had eaten something really sour, "I suppose it is for the best… you won't be treated like that from now on. No child, magical or non-magical should be raised like that."

"Magic doesn't exist, though," Henrietta said, slumping down in a nearby chair.

"yes, and muggles can talk to snakes, find a magically hidden door, pass a muggle repelling charm and talk to a magical portrait." He said dryly. Salazar smirked as he watched the raven-haired child gape like a fish, "And yes… you are a witch."

"Bu-but… but I… I can't possibly be a witch!" Henrietta stuttered in denial. Part of her unwilling to believe what was being said.

"A mage then." Henrietta looked as if she was going to say something, but the painting cut her off, "Listen, it doesn't matter what you call yourself, you can do magic, and you are my heir."

There was a short pause as something the professor said stood out, "Heir?"

"Well, unless another family has developed the ability to talk to snakes, then you are my descended." He said, "And if by any chance, you are not my heir, I will train you as one. I have waited centuries for an heir to come by and learn from me, I don't feel like waiting any longer."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, silly girl is that I will shape you to be my heir." He explained, "I will train you in magic, politics, history and anything else that suits your fancy. Then, you will bring honour back to the name Slytherin!"

"Why should I accept?" Henrietta asked softly.

"Why?" Said Salazar, "Through the short time I have known you, I have learned that you are an orphan hated by your remaining relatives and thrown out of home." Slytherin explained, "You may stay here and call this place your home and live in relative safety, I am merely here to teach you to be my heir and bring back honour to the name. Simple as that. Shelter and the company of someone who understands you."

"I… I guess it wouldn't hurt."

"Wonderful! Now-"

Whatever Salazar was going to say was cut off by a low grumbling sound, "Sorry, but do you happen to have anything to eat?"


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently, yes, he did have food to eat. After some quick directions, Salazar led his newly claimed heir to the kitchens. It was smaller than the room previous, and much like everything else, it was caked in dust. However, what caught her eye, was a large ornate dish cover which sat on a finely made wooden table.

"Now, I know it has been a thousand or so years, and I don't know if the enchantment has died or not, but I always kept an ever-refilling plate of some fresh fruits and vegetables ready and available. It's just common sense." Slytherin said from a picture frame hanging on one of the walls.

Henrietta was about to ask how one would create an ever-refilling plate, but her mind already anticipated the answer: Magic. For some reason, the longer she thought about Magic, the more real it seemed, not that talking paintings and snakes did not help. Taking off the dish cover, she found exactly what she had been told, a plate of good quality fruits and vegetables. A small ' _oh_ ' escaped her mouth. Really, it was a bit underwhelming in her mind.

Carefully, she took an apple from the plate and bit into it. For some reason, she thought it would taste old or like dust, but instead, it tasted like heaven; juicy and somewhat sour. For someone who had usually been fed basically scraps, it was one of the most wonderful things in the world. She quickly downed the apple, replacing it with another.

"Now that your hunger has been satiated, we need to get down to business." Salazar said, "There are a few things that need to be taken care of before you get properly settled in. First, we need to make you officially my heir. Luckily, I had prepared for this. And yes, I am that paranoid. Then we need to unfreeze the house-elf, then-"

"House-elf?" Henrietta questioned.

"It is rude to interrupt." He chastised lightly, "A house-elf is a servant to a wizarding family that started becoming popular during my time at Hogwarts. You will be able to meet my own, soon to be your, house-elf. For now, finish that off and we'll get the pesky inheritance out the way."

It did not take long for Henrietta to demolish the second apple, and before she knew it she was being guided through the underground complex to two large wooden doors that opened to reveal a large bedroom. A four-poster bed sat in the middle, with a desk off to the side and a large wardrobe on the other side. She could see that the main theme of snakes, silver and emerald bled into the bedroom as the posters on the bed were stylised with snakes twisting around poles. The blankets were a deep green with silver hems and the pillows were coloured similarly. Atop the desk was a coat of arms of sorts, with a green shield and a silver snake in the centre. The rest of the room was made with fine dark wooden floors and marble stone walls, lit by several wall torches.

"This was my bedroom." Salazar said from a frame between his desk and the bed, "And soon, it will be yours."

"Mine?"

"Well, where else would you sleep?" When it looked like she was about to speak, Salazar quickly said, "No, don't answer that! A cupboard is no place for a child." He hissed, "Now, on the desk there should be a few pieces of parchment and a quill."

After a brief walk to the desk, she indeed found the parchment and quill. "What are these for?"

"Well, one is a will and the other, an inheritance test. I got them all from the goblins before my death."

"What do I have to do? I can't write..."

"You won't have to worry about that. I can and will teach you those skills. For now, you don't have to do anything, but I will need a drop of your blood soon. Just take a seat and I will be with you." Salazar then turned his attention to the parchment and began to speak, " _Wake up quill,_ " and with that string of words, one of the feathers on the desk jumped up from the desk energetically, dipping itself into an inkwell filled with red liquid and waited, "I,  _Salazar Sean Slytherin, being sound of mind and magic, hereby declare that all previous wills made by me are null and void at the time of writing._

_"I bequeath all that the Slytherin line own onto_ …" He stopped, turning his attention to the raven-haired girl, "Ah, do you have a middle name?" Salazar asked.

"I don-" I don't know, was what little Henrietta was about to say, but a distant memory made itself known. A memory of a man with dark eyes and messy black hair, and a woman with long red hair and shining green eyes that looks so much like her own. They seemed to be speaking to her, but she could not understand some of what they said, but what she did understand was her name, "Lily. Henrietta Lily Potter."

"Thank you." He said before returning his attention back to the parchment, " _Henrietta Lily Potter, declaring that she is to be the heir of House Slytherin in both the Law and in Magic upon the day that I die. Signed S. Slytherin_." The document seemed to glow ever so slightly as the signature finished, _"_ There, that's it."

"Really?" She asked surprised.

"What were you expecting?" Replied Salazar Slytherin, "God to come down from the heavens and shake your hand?"

"No…"

"Magic isn't always flashy," He explained, "sometimes it can be the most benign thing. But I digress, we now need to see if it worked."

"Okay"

"Good. Now, go over to my desk, you should see a small knife. Cut your finger with it." He said, pointing to the wicked knife on the table.

Her reaction was instant, "What!?" she screamed.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt a bit, but only for a moment. I was given the ritual knife by a friend who was a prodigy with charms, so it should heal you right up… if the wound is small enough. All you have to do is drop a bit of your blood on the other piece of parchment."

At first, she did not move, only stared at the knife on the table with apprehension. It was a curved piece of polished metal, though the blade was not grey in colour, but ivory. Both edges of the knife were sharp, but the inner edge was serrated with the appearance of jagged teeth. After a bit of coaxing, she took the tool in hand nervously. A few more coaxing words from the portrait later, and the little girl made a small cut on her finger, drawing a small amount of blood. Poking the parchment with the bloodied finger, Henrietta flinched as the blood seemed to be soaked into the page and red lines started to spider web across the page.

Once it was done, words, some foregone, others she could understand, had written themselves on the parchment:

_**Henrietta Lily Potte** _ _r_

_31 July 1980_

_Scion of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jade Potter nee Evans_

_Heir of the Noble House Potter (By Birth)_

_Heir of the Noble House Slytherin (By Inheritance)_

"The loophole worked!" The portrait cheered, "And it looks like you are already an Heir of a house. Well, now that that is out the way, you now own my little Snake Pit. Now, all we have to do is wake the House-elf and you can get settled in."

However, Henrietta was not really paying attention to the painting, instead, she was gazing longingly at the two other names that shared the parchment; James and Lily Potter. Despite the fact, she had never seen the word 'scion' she somehow knew that it meant they were her parents -her family. A tear started to form as she connected the names with the image of a man and woman. She had her father's messy hair, and her mother's kind eyes. Two people she would never know, two people who stared down at her with love.

"Henrietta?" a voice cut in. Looking up, she saw the portrait looking at her, worry evident in his expression, "Are you okay?"

She hummed in a noncommittal answer, "Just thinking."

"We have more important things to do, first. Once we wake the elf, then you can have some alone time, okay?"

With that, Henrietta was being guided, once again, through the underground complex before stopping at a narrow unassuming door. She was a teeny bit underwhelmed with the lacklustre door, but it was not too important. The door swung open with a single hiss from Slytherin.

Beyond the door was a cramped room with what looked like rudimentary and primitive pieces of kitchen equipment between counters with quite a few stools strewn about. Up at the back, she could see a smaller door slightly ajar. Unlike other rooms, this one lacked most of the fanciful designs and colours around. She could tell it was well made, and she could see some designs here and there that gave it that snake like motif she had seen around, but it was much drabber than the other rooms, "This is the kitchen which also doubles as the house-elf's home." he explained from another, smaller, portrait above the entry door, "Right through that door, you will meet the House-elf. I do hope he hasn't perished after all this time."

Onwards they pushed, and through the smaller door, they found a much smaller room. Off in one corner, she could see some small beds that, while better than what she had in the cupboard, were not as good as Salazar's. In another, she saw something much more interesting.

A small bar cage with an odd little creature inside, illuminated by dim blue glowing runes that surrounded the cage, wrapping themselves around the bars and other features. The air felt charged with an odd type of energy that felt unnatural to Henrietta. She could not quite place it, but the entire thing felt more unnatural than the other types of magic she had seen.

"That... is a house-elf."

"How are we going to get it out?" She asked.

"Kick it." He answered simply.

"What?"

"When I built the stasis cage, I made it fragile, so if anyone was trying to break in, it would awaken the elf. So, just kick it."

Henrietta shrugged and decided to listen to the magic portrait and gave the cage a tentative kick. Immediately, the blue glow of the runes turned blood red and the bars of the cage cracked, crumbled, and turned to dust. The creature inside, flopped to the floor, before pulling itself up with surprising speed, backing off into a corner, eyeing the girl with obvious distrust in its beady eyes. The heir of Slytherin reacted the way anyone else would and fled back to a safe distance.

"What's your business here!?" It shouted though it sounded more like a squeak, "Where's Master Slytherin?!"

Now that she could see the creature without the bars obscuring its features, she found herself slightly intrigued by the small creature known as a house-elf. Large bat-like ears flopped lazily down the side of its comically large head. It wore a well-made, but still somehow shabby piece of cloth as a form of clothing that reminded her of an oversize poncho.

"I am right here, Balor." Salazar said.

"Master?"

"No, I am not your master. Henrietta is." He said, pointing to the girl, "I am sorry, but I have passed from this world and onto the next. She is my heir. Serve her as well as you had me." Throughout Salazar's speech, several emotions passed on Balor's face, however, dismay was the most noticeable of them all. As the painting finished, Henrietta could see tears.

"Balor shall serve the new mistress, he will." The little creature proclaimed sombrely, turning to the raven-haired girl before bowing low.

"Good, now Henrietta, you may give any order to Balor and he will accomplish it." Slytherin explained, "Personally, the first one I would do is get him to begin cleaning the Snake Pit, starting with the more important rooms such as the bedroom and the main hall, than everything else."

"Um… Yes. Clean up the… important rooms, please." She ordered awkwardly. Really, it was odd for her to be giving the orders, and she felt sorry for the small elf, but Salazar told her to do it, so she did.

"Yes, Mistress Slytherin." A loud pop later, and the house-elf dispersed vanished completely.

"Henrietta," Salazar called, drawing her attention to the empty patch of air where Balor once stood, "today I want you to go around and explore for a bit, I'll be there to make sure you don't get lost, but you should familiarise yourself with the Snake Pit. Tomorrow, we'll begin your lessons."

Vanishing little elves had completely left her mind as she asked eagerly, "Will I get to learn some magic?"

"No." He replied, soliciting a pout from the raven-haired girl, "You will first be learning how to write. I will also be teaching you some history that will be important, and how to properly act like the heir of a- no,  _two_  noble houses'. Not only that, but upon your first blood, you will become the lady of house Slytherin and Potter! Once you have learned all that to a satisfactory level, you will finally learn magic. Once you begin learning magic, we'll try and take you out into the world. I want to know more about what has changed, and I wouldn't want you to go stir-crazy."

Henrietta had no idea what a 'first blood' was, but it did not sound pleasant. Aside from that, though, the little girl was fine with what the portrait had said. Learning about history, perhaps magical history, sounded wonderful, but not only that but she would learn how to write. She really did not know much about being a lady, or what being an heir would entail, but those also sounded exciting. But most importantly, she would be learning magic!

So, heeding Salazar Slytherin's order, she went off to explore the Snake Pit as it was called. She found quite a few rooms, most of which she learned the names of from the ever-omnipresent portraits set strategically around the place. A training room, potions laboratory, a library, and several other rooms such as a bathroom and toilet. But a few rooms he told were off limits, not that he told her what lie beyond those ones.

Eventually, she grew tired, and quickly had some food from the ever-filling fruit platter much to Balor's dismay. She did not want him to do too much work and cooking her a meal when one was ready seemed to be self-defeating. She made the walk back to the bedroom under guidance from the portrait and quickly got ready for bed. Like Vernon on a friday night, she fell asleep instantly.

…

Terrified screams and a horrible high-pitched laughter jolted the girl awake with a flash of green. Heavy breathing was the only noise in the room. Henrietta's eyes flashed around the room, half out of fear that she had woken up in her cupboard, but when it became apparent that she was in the safety of the Snake Pit, she calmed. A nightmare, a common one that shook her awake in the nights, but she never screamed or cried for fear of retribution from Vernon or Petunia, a fear that continued even in the Snake Pit.

She discarded the blankets and dropped off the bed. She was dressed in an overly large robe that used to belong to Salazar, but she was using it as a nighty. A comfortable one at that. "Lights" she whispered, but nothing came of it. Again, she tried to tell the lights to turn on, but nothing happened. Again, she tried with more urgency, " _Light_!"

And to her delight, it worked. Soon the room was bathed in light from the wall fires. Looking around, she found her goal: the desk. She scurried over there quickly, but quietly, searching for a particular item. It did not take long before said object was in hand along with the inheritance paper.

With these in hand, she walked back to the bed, careful not to trip on the excess fabric that the large robes produced. Once on her bed, she set the objects on the bed; the inheritance paper and a mirror. She wanted comfort, but not from Salazar, she wanted it from the parents she would never know. So, she grabbed the mirror to examine her features. A narcissistic practice from anyone who watched from the sidelines, but to her, it was the only connection to her and her parents. Her messy black hair made messier from her sleep and her gree-

Something caught her eyes in the mirror. Angling it so her face was not obscured by darkness, she looked closer at her mirror-self, particularly the eyes. It was not the same green she remembered from the times when she had time to explore herself at the Dursley's, and it was not the same green her mother had. It was different. Unnaturally so.

For her green eyes were marred by flakes of red around the rims of what she would later know to be her iris'.


	4. Chapter 4

Days became months and months eventually years. Henrietta had grown quite accustomed to her new life in the Snake Pit and the surrounding forests. She had been taught quite a few things along the way, such as writing, history, and later, as promised, magic.

Through all this, Henrietta had grown up to be quite the lady. Still too young to change much of her physical appearance other than growing taller, stronger and putting on a healthy amount of weight, but her clothing matched her status. Of course, situated out in the forest, she was unable to buy any new clothing, so she was stuck with second-hand outfits, but instead of her modern rags, she was given Salazar's old robes, shrunken by Balor. The robes were quite fancy with their green, silver and black colourings, and charms to make them comfortable and resilient. Of course, as it was Salazar Slytherin, the person who had once proclaimed himself the most paranoid man on the planet, they were all cut for maximum movement in case of assassins.

Along with her new robes, was a new hairstyle. Unlike with when she was at the Dursley's, her messy hair was accepted, but thanks to Balor, it was styled to keep it under control with intricate braids to keep her hair out of her face. At one point, Salazar had commented that she reminded him of an old student, Morgan, but that was as far as he elaborated.

Currently, Henrietta had just left the safety of the wards around the Snake Pit and its entrance, set out to do some exploring. With her, she had a long walking staff which she had carved herself, and Mara, the first snake she spoke to who was currently coiled around the top half of the stick.

With Salazar's blessing, Henrietta was allowed to bring Mara down into the Snake Pit; she had asked the Elder, but she declined. The human and snake had hit it off quite well if Slytherin was correct, and in Henrietta's mind, she found the snake to be a better conversationalist than people she knew previously.

The two stepped over fallen trees and branches, pushed through bushes and generally had a fun time, especially upon seeing a doe prancing through the forest. She wished she had a pencil or something to draw with, it would have been something to pass the time.

As they continued on, Henrietta decided to broach a subject that she had thought about at length, "Mara?" she said.

The snake turned its head to regard the little girl, " _Yes, lady Speaker?_ "

"What do you think Hogwarts would look like now?"

" _... Lady Speaker, you ask me these questions, yet I am unable to answer._ " said Mara, " _The First Speaker would have a better understanding._ "

"I've asked him before, I just want to know what your thoughts are."

" _Lady Speaker, I am a snake. I do not concern myself with thoughts on your sorcerer's school._ " Mara said in a mockery of imperious manner.

"Yeah… still, just three more years and I might get my letter! And hopefully, meet more people like me. It gets alone here sometimes." Henrietta said, still hopeful despite what Salazar had said on the subject those years ago.

It had been a very snowy day, a week or so since she first arrived at the Snake Pit. The weather had picked up since the Dursley's visit, so Henrietta was barred from leaving the Pit until the snow had cleared. While she had enjoyed the preliminary lessons that Salazar would give her, such as getting her started on handwriting or teaching her about the various terms that Wizards used, she missed the outside. The crampedness of the Pit reminded her a bit of her cupboard.

Currently, Henrietta was practising her spelling and handwriting, which was odd in itself; apparently, she did not write like a beginner, nor a child but someone who knew their way around a quill.

It was then that Salazar entered the portrait in the room before saying, out of the blue, "I think it would be a good idea to start your history lessons, while the weather is still dismal," he said.

Henrietta gave the painting a confused look. It was a strange transition to her education, which to this point had been menial things. Nevertheless, she put away her writing utensils and gave her undivided attention to the Portrait.

"One of the most important parts of your education is history," he said. Despite the short time they knew each other, Henrietta knew he was about to begin a lecture, and prepared herself for it, "Now, I remember my time as a teacher and students have always complained about how boring it is, but I want you to understand that if we do not know our history, we will not grow. Without this knowledge, we will stagnate.'

"These lessons, I will teach you about both common history and the history of the magical world - although I must admit that I have little knowledge of the last thousand years, but we will find a solution for this. Now, I will start with the magical world considering, at the time I was alive, it was a fairly new concept. In fact, it was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizar- is something amusing?"

"Hogwarts?" Henrietta questioned, sniggering at the name.

"Yes, well, it wasn't my first choice, but it was a majority vote as both Helga and Godric liked the name. Rowena wanted to call it Venefitrinium, and I wanted something simple; the Magical Institution of Albion." He replied dryly.

"Who are they?" She asked, having heard about them a lot, but not anything about them.

"If you would let me teach you, you would know."

"Sorry," Henrietta said, her head dipping.

"It's okay. Now, where was I?" He said, restarting his lecture, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a dream formulated by four people; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and me, Salazar Slytherin. Yes, strangely enough, we all had names that alliterate… One of the many questions that kept Rowena awake at night, but I digress.'

"At the time we lived, magical communities were few and far between. The closest thing we had to an actual community was two or more families living close by, even then that was a rare scenario. The muggle-born's were worse off, very few learning to harness their birthright from wizarding wanderers. I was one such wanderer, along with Godric, Rowena and Helga. It was very segregated.'

"This created many a problems; the same spell was being invented all over the world, young mages who knew not of their birthright were left untaught, sometimes with disastrous results, it was a mess. So we decided to fix that. With Hogwarts built, we could work on teaching young witches and wizards, and with more educated mages we could all work on advancing magic and finding more mages to teach.'

"With this, magical colonies began to take shape. Last I heard, there were eight of these colonies; Godric's "Hollow", Hogsmead, there was that one in London, though I can't remember its name… no matter. I'm sure they have changed over the centuries."

As she heard this, she could not help but get excited. Hearing about others like her brought a warm feeling to her heart, the desperate need to meet more mages. The simple fact that she was being taught by one of the four creators of the first school for sorcery was an overwhelming thought, "What did you teach?" she asked, wanting to learn more about Hogwarts.

"Me? Well, at first it was a little bit of everything," He explained, "but slowly, as our faculty grew, I receded to become the teacher for transfiguration and part-time battle-magic teacher. It was I and a few other workers who built majority of the school with our magic and muggle means, though I won't be teaching you transfiguration until you are quite older."

"Do you think that I could go to Hogwarts?" She finally asked, looking up at the painting with expectant eyes.

"If it's still standing, then yes, I would allow you to go." Salazar answered, "But you won't be going until you are eleven years old… I'm not actually sure why that was how old the students had to be, but Ravenclaw was adamant about this age restriction. Then again, considering the thousand year sabbatical I have taken from Hogwarts, it is possible that quite a bit might have changed."

"Oh..." She replied, her head held low in disappointment.

"I don't want you to keep your hopes up, just to have them come crashing down."

Despite the dampening turn the conversation had taken, the idea of going to Hogwarts, a school her teacher and guardian had built, was a dream come true. She just hoped it was still standing.

Together, girl and her snake companion continued looking through the forest, trying to see if they could find anything new or interesting. Of course, Henrietta also kept an eye open for any perceived danger; paranoia drilled into her by Salazar himself, not that she thought anything would go wrong. Multitudes of subjects were raised, mostly on the more human side, such as her lessons, both Magical and Muggle, and even her etiquette lessons, which, while boring, where important.

Eventually, the conversations turned to food, as Mara said, " _Lady Speaker, I am hungry. Let me down to hunt._ "

The last of the Potters paused, looking at the snake with an odd expression, "I could just 'accio' you a mouse or something."

" _It is no fun without the hunt._ "

"You could get hurt." Henrietta pointed out.

" _That is part of the fun._ "

Henrietta raised an eyebrow at that but relented with an annoyed sigh. With one hand, she reached up to pluck the snake from its roost on her staff, and deposited Mara onto the ground,"Please be careful, Mara. You're the only real friend I have here."

" _Do not worry, speaker. I will meet you back at the Pit by nightfall._ " and with that, the snake slithered off into the woods, leaving Henrietta to sigh in discontent.

_It would have been easy to just summon some food_. Henrietta thought.  _I do need the practice._

Ever since she had begun her training, she had used magic for nearly everything, much to Salazar's dismay. While he did love magic, he also hated laziness, and if Henrietta was honest with herself, she was getting a bit lazy. But magic was simply… magical, to her. Ever since she learned her first spell, it was as if the world had gotten so much bigger.

Her first magical lesson was one of her most cherished memories.

Four months had passed since the Dursley incident before Salazar even considered beginning her magical training. Those months had been spent drilling etiquette, history, language, and other more survival-oriented skills. So, it was quite the surprise when Salazar appeared in the portrait in her bedroom saying, "Despite having no wand for you to use, I think it would be a great time for you to learn some magic."

Henrietta had been reading a translated version of  _Paphnutius_  on the off chance it would be more interesting than history books when Salazar appeared. So, when he proposed teaching her magic, she reacted accordingly, "Yes!" She shouted, slamming to book close and throwing it onto a nearby table as she snapped her head towards the painting. Her eyes alight, ready to learn the mystical arts.

What followed was a very excited Henrietta being guided to a large room, one she had seen during her exploration of the, surprisingly big, Snake Pit. A wide open space that seemed to have been built with strength in mind. Odd patterns were drawn onto the floor of the room, and instead of silver light brightening the room, it was simple white light.

"This is my personal training room, built to withstand the most powerful of battle-magics!" Salazar said dramatically, his hands moving as if he was lifting something heavy above his head, "Now, find a rock or something to that effect."

Ignoring the antics of the painting, Henrietta complied, and after a few moments, she found a decent sized pebble, just bigger than her thumb and smooth all around. Salazar then ordered her to sit, cross-legged, in the centre of the room and place the pebble in front of her.

"The spell I will be teaching you is called the Levitation charm, it's incantation being ' _Wingardium Leviosa_ '. Normally, you will need a wand, but I want to get you started on magic. If we had a wand to spare, you would learn the motions of the spell, a simple swish and flick! But seeing as my son stole my wand, we can't do that. Now, recite the incantation."

Henrietta nodded along, "Wingardium Leviosa." she said.

"Again,"

"Wingardium Leviosa."

"One more time,"

"Wingardium Leviosa."

"Good… now, point at that pebble, recite the spell, and will the stone to be lifted."

"Wingardium Leviosa!" She said excitedly, reciting the words to the best of her abilities while pointing at the pebble.

Nothing happened.

"Henrietta," Salazar said, "you must  _will_ the magic to do your bidding. Simply saying the words and pointing will not do anything. Visualise the pebble levitating into the air, will it to. Look within yourself, feel it, will it, then cast it."

Listening to Salazar, she tried to look inwards for what she desired, as she did, blurred images flashed into view as a high-pitched voice intoned the spell once, twice, many times over. It was as if a choir, far away, had begun singing the spell over and over again. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were shaking, moving on their own towards the stone.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " Henrietta intoned. Something deep inside her seemed to click as she did so and a wave of euphoria and something else filled her. Her eyes fluttered open, and in front of her, she could see the stone levitating two feet off the desk as if held aloft by strings. The euphoric feeling doubled causing her to cheer out, "I did it!"

Unfortunately, this interrupted her concentration and the pebble fell to the desk, but this did not dampen her mood as the rush of using magic continued keeping her in high spirits.

She turned to her teacher, part of her hoping to be praised for her work, but when she looked upon his stunned features, she felt as if she had done something wrong. Her happiness vanished in an instant as his features turned to worry as he looked upon her.

"You've never practised this spell before, have you?" The Painting asked.

"No," she replied meekly, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. Uh, please try the same spell, but on the desk."

"Okay." She replied, clearing her throat before intoning the levitation spell. Unlike the pebble, the desk rose wobbly from the ground as she tapped into the foreign memories. Again, the strange feelings rushed through her being causing her smile to return, if a bit weaker than before. Instead of letting the desk fall to the floor, she tried to control the feeling inside her. The desk, albeit shaking as if in an earthquake, slowly deposited itself onto the ground.

Exhaustion replaced the odd feeling as she turned back to her teacher. His expression did not help things. If anything, he looked much more worried than before, "Is there something wrong?" She asked nervously.

"I will not treat you like a child as that would be an insult to you. Yes, yes there is something wrong, but it's not your fault. I have seen wandless mages work their magic, but they are always elders who have worked on the art of wandless magics for years. You, on the other hand, seemed to be able to lift a table with ease. Is something wrong?" Salazar paused, shaking his head.

"Yes, yes there is. I expected you to be at this spell for days, if not weeks, the best results being only a wobble, but no! You managed to levitate a desk made of oak! I'm sorry for yelling, but there is something severely wrong, and I have no answers. I can't help you, I'm sorry."

"So, I can't learn magic?" Henrietta asked almost tearfully.

"Of course you can! We will continue to learn magic, as it is your birthright. We just need to be careful. If that spell was any measure of your power, dangerous things could come about." Salazar seemed to become very thoughtful, "It's always been the powerful ones who were at the forefront of change, and I would much rather you be in control over that change instead of someone puppeting you.

"Considering your immense power, I will begin teaching you spells I consider crucial to survive and a few others. The Summoning, Banishing, and Levitation Charms, the Light charm, the Fire and Water spells, Shield and Stunning spells and Apparation. Other than that, I will begin your training for Occlumency."

Henrietta nodded resolutely, smiling proudly.

Even to this day, that memory kept a smile on her face. Henrietta renewed her travels through the forest, occasionally stopping to enjoy the scenery or to watch the forest animals as they lived their lives. All was well… until she found herself at a small, but deep body of water in the forest.

It was one she had visited plenty of times, but this time it was different. On the other side of the lake, atop a large flat rock that stood right by the lake side, was something she had not seen in quite a while - another human. More specifically, a little girl around the same age as herself.

The girl was dressed in a modern short dress and striped pants and blue ugg boots. She had a mane of long thick brown hair, and oddly long buck teeth and bright brown eyes. Henrietta knew this about her, because they were both staring directly at each other like startled deer… and then it took a turn for the worse, as the girl, who had been situated dangerously close to the rock's edge, slipped and fell, hitting an outcrop of stone and landing into the water below.

Later on, Henrietta would beat herself up about freezing in place, a look of horror adorning her features, as she stared down at the water where the girl had landed. She stood there, unable to move as the effects of the splash disappeared, replaced by bubbles of air that was certainly from the now drowning girl.

After what seemed like ages, Henrietta made a move to try and magic the girl out of the water; not that she had any idea how. But before she could a loud crack and the sound of a thumping body caused her to pause. Upon staring at the cause of the noise, the young mage could not help but be stunned into inaction again. There, coughing up water, was the girl who had just fallen into the lake. Henrietta put two and two together and rushed to the newly discovered mage.

"Are you okay?" She asked, crouching by the girl's side, her eyes looking for any injuries. All she found was a large gash in the Brunette's pants.

The girl did not respond, continuing to cough until her lungs were emptied of water. Once the coughing died down, it was replaced by sobbing.

Henrietta had no idea how to react, she had never dealt with this before as she was usually the one crying. But she did not want to act like the Dursleys when dealing with a crying girl. She thought of acting like Petunia when Dudley got hurt, but she still did not like the idea of using the Dursleys as an example. Instead, she put, what she assumed was a comforting hand, on the unknown girl's back. She tried to ask the girl if she was okay again, but she did not respond making Henrietta even more worried.

Soon, the sounds of crying were interrupted by shouts from the forest; two people, a man and woman, were calling out for someone. She felt the mystery girl perk up at the sounds, tensing as if she was going to bolt. Henrietta realised that they must be the girl's parents. A smile danced on her lips as she could help the girl and meet two other mages. But first, she needed to get their attention.

"Over here!" she shouted, standing up and brandishing her staff as a signal by summoning a few burst of flame from the end with a whispered 'incendio', "I found your daughter!" she continued yelling. Then, out from the forest, two people came. Both were dressed in modern clothing, the father in a nice casual outfit, and the mother, a sundress.

Upon seeing them, Henrietta moved off to the side, gesturing to their soaking wet daughter who had turned to them, her nose leaking and her eyes damp from tears. The parents worry turned to horror, and they both sprinted to their daughter, who, in turn, tried to get up to hug them.

"Hermione!" the father cried, searching the girl for any injuries, "are you alright?"

"Are you hurt?" the mother supplied.

Henrietta gave them some space, feeling awkward as they fussed over their child who had broken down into tears again, professing her fear. After a few more moments, the girl had calmed down to say what had happened, how she fell, hurt herself, and nearly drowned. They looked over to the conspicuously dry mage with the conspicuously dry stick, before turning back to their daughter, Hermione, asking her how she got out.

"I… I don't know," Hermione replied, sniffling slightly as she shook in her mother's hands, "I was hurt in the water, and then I was here."

"Apparated." Henrietta supplied.

The father turned to Henrietta, "She... what?"

"She apparated."

"What's 'apparated'?" Hermione asked, still sniffling. Her parents seemed just as confused as their daughter, regarding Henrietta in a confused manner.

"Has the terminology changed in the last millennium?" Henrietta asked, eyeing them with just as much confusion as they did her. It seemed that her response was not one they anticipated and their confusion became marred by a sort of stunned silence. A sigh left her lips as she decided to give the mages a demonstration to put them on the right page, "This is appereation."

With a slight twist on the spot, Henrietta disapparated a few feet to the side with a loud crack. When she focused back on the three Grangers, she found them all looking at her with dumbfound expressions. A sinking feeling began to fester in Henrietta's gut, but she beat it down until she had reason to act on it.

"You… you..." the Mother began.

Only for the father to finish for her, "You teleported."

Henrietta cocked her head to the side like a confused bird, until the tail end of a memory reminded her what 'teleported' meant, "We're using muggle terminology, now?" she asked. Her response seemed to fall on deaf ears as it seemed they were still hung up on her apparition, worryingly enough.

"You teleported..."

"Yes… I did." She replied, "So did your daughter."

"I teleported?" the youngest of the trio asked, less confused and more inquisitive.

"Mhmm, you fell in the water, and I was about to get you out, but then you appar- er… teleported."

"That doesn't make sense, how could she… how could you teleport?" the Father question, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

"Er… Mister..." Henrietta began.

"Granger. Ian Granger."

"Mr Granger… your daughter is a mage, and so am I."

"Mage? As in 'Dungeons and Dragons; throwing fireballs' mage?" the mother Granger asked.

"I've never heard of this Dungeons and Dragons… but… maybe?" Henrietta replied, but the sinking feeling in her gut would not be silent and eventually, she had to address it, "You two aren't… muggles… are you?"

"What are you talking about?" Ian asked.

Deciding to throw all pretence into the wind, Henrietta decided to tell them bluntly, "You two are muggles or non-magical people. Your daughter is a muggle-born, someone with magic from two muggles."

"Wh-what do you mean, magic?" Ian continued.

Henrietta felt her patients wither away as the conversation prattled on and decided to disapparate again, this time back to her original position. She locked her eyes onto Ian's, issuing a non-verbal challenge.

"Magic is real… we're talking to a witch in the forest… oh… I must be losing it." said Ian, his voice strangely high pitched and strangled.

"Honey, what are the chances that we are both having the same hallucinations..." the mother said.

"Oh… oh..."

Henrietta simply pouted, "I am not a witch, I am a mage!" she said resolutely, "Just like your daughter!" deciding they needed more proof, she whispered ' _lumos_ ', summoning a golf ball sized light in the palm of her hand. Though, this did little to calm them down and instead caused them to flinch back as if the light had burned them. Looking at them, Henrietta could only think.  _I need Salazar…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys got to thank u/UndeadBBQ and u/fflai on Reddit for helping me with these chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but I was working on Uni and stuff, plus my Beta’s seemed to have run off somewhere… Oh well. Oh, and I wish to ask you lot if you would check out ‘Through the Eluvian’. Thank you again for all your support!

“You needn’t worry about the light,” said Henrietta with a tired sigh. “It’s just light. It won’t burn you.” She closed her hand over the orb of light, crushing it and dispelling the effect. “Now, if you would let me, could I dry off Hermione?”

The two elder Grangers looked to each other, a silent conversation happening between them. When they finished, the mother spoke, “What are you going to do to our daughter?” Suspicion was evident.

Sighing, Henrietta said, “Just a little spell to dry her off. It won’t hurt or anything.”

After another silent conversation, they allowed Henrietta to work her magic, but it was obvious that they were still suspicious of the strange magical girl. Henrietta called for Hermione to step forwards, and after a tense minute between the parent, the girl did so, standing a few feet away from the Heir of Slytherin. She looked uncomfortable, and a bit unsure, but Henrietta tried her best to placate the girl with a friendly smile.

“Just stand still, Miss Granger,” she said, waving her hands over the girls soaking clothes in long sweeping motions. With barely a whisper, she intoned the incantation for the evaporation charm, “ _Expiraqua_.”

At once, Hermione’s clothes steamed as the water evaporated, drying out completely. The three Grangers flinched at the effect, the two elders making a move to defend their child from non-existent dangers. Meanwhile, Henrietta tried her best to ignore them and puffed out her chest pridefully – something Salazar had tried his best to dissuade her from doing. ‘It is normal to be prideful of ones work,’ he had said, ‘but to show off could alienate possible allies.’

“It’s all dry!” Hermione exclaimed in awe, once the initial shock wore off.

“Of course it is! Now, follow me, there is someone you should meet.” Henrietta began walking off towards the Snake Pit, only throwing a cursory glance behind her to see if the family were following or not. Of course, they stayed rooted to the lakeshore. With a disgruntled sigh, she beckoned them forwards, “Come on! I promise that you’ll be safe!”

The Granger elders gave each other an odd look, this time whispering quietly and fervently under their breaths, discussing whether or not they should follow the strange little girl in the woods. Eventually, they decided that it would be in their best interest to follow the child – as they truly did not know the mage’s potential – and for their own spawn as, according to Henrietta, she too was a mage.

Following closely behind, the three tailed Henrietta as she traversed the forest, demonstrating an amazing familiarity with the woods. But it was about three-quarters of the way there when they encountered their first, relatively minor, snag.

“I… I think I left the oven on,” Ian said suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

Jean nodded along. “Yeah, the oven. I think we might have…”

Henrietta stood confused for a moment, watching as the two turned around and began walking off into the forest. That was when she realised. “Wait,” she called, stopping the adults in their tracks.

Ian gave her a pitying look, “Listen, I know we-”

“It’s a muggle-repelling ward,” retorted Henrietta bluntly.

Ian and Jean paused, confused by the words she was using. “I… ah… what-repelling what?” Jean asked.

“A muggle-repelling ward,” reiterated Henrietta, “It’s so people like you can’t stumble upon the Pit.”

“The Pit?” Hermione question while the adults were still wondering about the so-called ‘muggle-repelling ward’.

“My home,” the mage shrugged in reply, before turning to the adults, “These wards compel muggles, people like you, to think of an excuse of why they should leave. Now, grab my hands”

The two adults’ eyes widened in horror for some unfathomable reason, but Henrietta ignored them, latching onto their limp hands and pulled. Despite the adults, urgers to be _anywhere_ but here, the two did not fight back, allowing Henrietta to guide them through the so-called ward. Of course, it would be much more dangerous to resist the girl, someone who could create orbs of light with a single word and could possibly force them to obey her commands with similar magicks that were compelling them to leave. Whatever the reason, they did not let go of Henrietta’s hands until they arrived at a small clearing.

A hiss drew their attention of Henrietta and her compatriots, which soon revealed itself to be an elderly looking snake who stared at the group curiously before looking to Henrietta and hissing once again. “ _Ah, young lady, you have returned with guests?_ ”

“…Is that a snake?” Ian asked, backing away slowly.

“Don’t worry, she won’t bite,” said Henrietta, walking over to pick up the elderly snake, pointedly trying to _not_ talk to the snake. She did not wish to reveal too much to the family, not until she got Salazar’s word. Realising that she could not, realistically, tell the family to just stand in the clearing while she conversed with her carer, she decided to get someone to watch them. “Balor!” she called.

Without pause, the House-Elf appeared, startling the family with the loud pop it made. “Little Lady,” he bowed upon arrival.

“What _is_ that!?” shouted the two Grangers in unison, contrasting their child’s curiosity and awe.

“A House-Elf,” Henrietta answered simply, turning to regard the little elf. “Balor, if you could keep these three busy while I tell… _him_ about our guests? Do not answer any of their questions, just make sure they stay here.”

The House-Elf nodded furiously as he turned and, rather redundantly, relayed the information back to the Grangers. While this was happening, Henrietta quickly opened the passageway to the Snake Pit, slipping in before the Grangers would ask too many questions.

Descending the staircase, she called for her guardian. “Salazar! Salazar!”

“What is it, little one?” the painting replied, walking into a nearby picture frame.

“I found another mage!” she all but shouted.

Salazar was stunned by the revelation, just as Henrietta hoped. “You… have?” he asked.

Henrietta nodded her head in a similar fashion to Balor. “ She’s a muggle-born! She’s around my age! I saw her apparate!” she continued. “She fell into the water then apparated out, then her parent came over but they knew nothing of magic!”

Salazar’s shocked countenance soon became serious. “Where is she now?”

“They’re outside the Pit, Balor is distracting them.”

Salazar steepled his fingers and began staring off into space. He sat like this for a few seconds before asking, “What do they know of magic?”

“Nothing, the mum and dad were concerned and suspicious,” Henrietta said, looking quite put out.

The portrait sighed, “You should have come to me about this first, but I can understand why you didn’t. Go, bring them in.”

Nodding, Henrietta raced back up the stairs and opened the passageway once again. The scene she met was not what she left as the Grangers seemed to have calmed down somewhat and were talking with the House-Elf, asking a variety of questions ranging from asking about what, exactly, is a House-Elf to questioning the safety of the Snake Pit. Not that he answered them.

“He’ll see you now,” said Henrietta, gesturing for the family to enter. They nodded mutely while Balor vanished with another pot, startling the family once more. With Henrietta guiding them, the Grangers soon arrived in the main hall, looking around awestruck by everything. Hermione looked particularly eager to get her hands on one of the books.

“You must be the Grangers,” Salazar said bluntly, watching bemused, as the family jumped at the unexpected voice.

“The painting can talk…” mumbled Ian breathlessly.

“I’d assume so, however, if I make any mistakes with my pronunciations or what have you, I do apologise. Learning the Queen’s English is difficult with only a child, if a verbose one, to teach you,” he said slowly and methodically, despite the fact that he spoke English extremely well.

Henrietta nodded at that. It had been quite the surprise to learn that Slytherin had been speaking parseltongue during their first meeting. Quite the surprise to himself for slipping into it without noticing either. They soon learned that the only language they could both understand was the language of snakes as the English language had changed considerably over the thousand years. As soon as it was discovered, however, Salazar decided to learn the language and use it exclusively as it would not due to be inept with the common tongue.

“Though not as hard as teaching the older tongues to my ward, here,” he continued. “But enough of that; I am… Anguis. It is with great honour that I introduce you to me, and my wards, humble abode.”

Henrietta could not help but snort at his choice of pseudonym, but otherwise allowed the Grangers to introduce themselves. “I’m Ian Granger,” said Ian, “and this is my wife Jean, and my daughter-”

“Hermione Granger, the muggle-born,” ‘Anguis’ supplied.

“…Yes.”

“As you might have figured out, your daughter and my ward, Lady Henrietta Potter, have quite a lot in common,” he continued, “that being the ability to manipulate reality to their whims.”

“Yes… magic. Ah… what do you want from us?” asked Jean, confused.

Salazar paused in thought, stroking his beard as he looked between the muggles and magi. After a moment of intense thought, he said, “Nothing too extraneous…” He paused again, reconsidering. “Well, depending on your temperament. You’ve learned that your daughter it a mage, yet you still protect her?”

“We wouldn’t treat our daughter any differently,” replied Ian hotly, offended by the implications of his words.

Nodding, Salazar continued, “Good, because I would not be pleased if you decided against that. You see, magic has a strange relation to the mental state of those with it. Neglect does not bode well for those with this power or those around them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you look after your daughter, then you won’t have to worry,” he said dismissively. “We can discuss this later, for now, I wish to discuss something. Lady Potter has not left this forest for several years, ever since her family abandoned her” at that, both the Grangers took in a quick intake of air, their eyes narrowing slightly, “so we are both woefully uneducated in the workings of the modern world. I want you two to take Lady Potter so she may learn more about the modern world. In return, she will cultivate young Hermione’s potential.”

“I… what?” Ian said intelligently. “You want us to look after Henrietta?”

“Precisely. Your daughter will benefit from this as much as Henrietta will,” the painting replied.

The elder Grangers gaped for a moment before Jean spoke up, “You do know what you are asking of us, right?”

“If I did not, then I would not have bothered,” retorted Salazar. “Already this is a great extension of trust.”

“We will need to think on this,” Jean continued.

“Take as much time as you will like. Henrietta really has nowhere else to go. However, I must implore you to stay here or within the proximity to the Snake Pit or the Muggle-Repelling charm will take effect.”

“Do you have somewhere we can discuss this privately?” Ian asked.

“Of course! Balor,” Salazar called, and with a pop, the House-Elf appeared. “take them to the dining room.”

“Yes, master!”

…

It was about an hour wait before the Grangers returned, the adults looking tired while Henrietta looked excited. Henrietta need not be a legilimens to see what their decision was. “After some thought, we have decided to open our house to you, Henrietta,” Ian said, looking quite mentally exhausted.

“Good, good, I thank you for this,” Salazar said sincerely, “It’s been quite difficult to look after her with only verbal commands and Balor’s help. Henrietta?”

“I thank you for allowing me into your homes,” the mage replied calmly, not betraying the excited feeling that welled within her gut.

“Does she need to pack or something?” Jean asked, looking as tired as her husband but forcing a smile.

Salazar shook his head. “No, she is free to leave now. Balor will pack and deliver her stuff.”

“Well, that makes it easier…” Ian mumbled. “Is there anything we need to know or anything?”

“Nothing at all, she’s just a normal child without any issues that I know of,” he replied.

“Then I guess we’ll set off then.”

Salazar nodded, turning to Henrietta. “Go along with them, I will instruct Balor to pack for you.” With an excited squeal, Henrietta jumped into the air, professing her thanks to Salazar over and over again. The painting tried not to appear touched by the child’s antics, but he could not help the smile that came to his face.

After a long goodbye, the Grangers plus one left the Snake Pit, beginning their journey to their car. However, it was only halfway to their vehicle when Henrietta suddenly stopped in her tracks, an expression of surprise marring her face.

“Is everything okay?” Jean asked, curious as to why the mage stopped.

“Mara!” Henrietta shouted, looking stricken. “She doesn’t know I’m leaving!”

Ian raised a worried eyebrow. “Who’s Mara? Another… girl?”

“She’s a snake,” Henrietta replied casually before calling out to the forest. “Balor!”

A loud pop heralded the arrival of the House Elf who caused the Grangers' to jump in fright once again. “What does Mistress Potter desire of Balor?”

“When Mara returns from hunting, can you please bring her to me?” she asked.

The House-Elf nodded fiercely, its floppy ears flapping like the wings of a bat. “Balor shall bring the symbol of Salazar to you, Mistress. Shall Balor bring the symbol with Mistress’ belongings?”

“Yes, Balor,” said Henrietta. “And thank you.”

“Mistress is too kind.” With that, the House Elf disappeared with another pop.

“I am _never_ going to get over that.” Ian shivered, renewing the walk once again. Only to stop when Hermione asked, “Will I learn to teleport?”

Ian was the first to reply with a quick, “You most certainly will not.”

“Why not?” Henrietta asked innocently.

“She’s just eight years old!”

“I learned when I was seven. Age shouldn't matter.” _Though, Salazar did tell me that I should not be able to teleport where I can see._

Unfortunately, the Grangers continued to shoot down that idea, saying that teleportation could come when she gets older. After that little interruption, the quartet continued their way through the forest until they arrived at one of the few pieces of modern civilization that touched the forest… the carpark where the Grangers sleek black car sat silently amongst the wildlife. She knew not what kind of car it was, as she did remember that there were different forms, but it was big enough to seat four people comfortably as well as camping supplies.

However, before they could all pile in, Ian stopped Henrietta. “Uh, Henrietta…” he said, looking between the girl and his car, “you can’t take the stick with you, it’s too big to fit.”

Smiling, Henrietta held out her staff and intoned, “ _Reducio_ ,”. The effect was immediate as a faint purple glow overtook the object and it shrunk dramatically until it was only as long as her forearm. Silently, she cheered. _Finally! It worked!_

Ian and Jean just stared as Hermione fawned over the stick. With a sigh, Ian gestured petulantly for the two children to get into the car.

Soon, the car rumbled to life as Ian Granger took to the wheel. As they left the national park and sped down the road, Jean decided to question their guest, “So, Henrietta, how did you wind up with… the painting? Er... Anguis?”

Henrietta cocked her head, pondering on how much information she should let the muggles know. Eventually, she decided that, if she wanted them to trust her enough to train and spend time with Hermione, she would need to let them know. Her face darkened as she told them, “When I was four, I ran away from my… _family_.” she spat venomously, “Mara brought me to the Pit and I met him.”

Jean’s expression twisted into one of worry as she regarded the young Magi, “You ran away? Why?”

“It’s unlikely that my aunt and uncle would have wanted me to stay after their precious son got hurt.”

The two adults looked to each other, an unheard conversation between each other, before Ian spoke up, “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. I’m sure they're worried sick”

Henrietta scoffed. “So how many times have you called your daughter a Freak.”

“What?” all but shouted Jean.

Ignoring the question, she continued. “Should I assume that she also lives in a cupboard?”

“Miss Potter!?”

“I’m just asking if Hermione had the same childhood as I,” she retorted.

Jean was at a loss for words, so Ian continued. “You lived in a… a cupboard, and they called you a ‘freak’?”

“That, and they also called me ‘Girl,’” Henrietta said off-handily.

“Did these people… hurt you?” Ian asked tentatively.

“Hurt me?” She echoed thoughtfully, “No, not really. I mean, Dudley would punch me and hurt me, but my aunt and uncle wouldn’t… hurt me. I did get hit in the back of the head, but it was rare and only when I did something very bad.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Everyone stopped speaking for a while, letting the rumble of the car’s engine take over. The atmosphere was dull and melancholic as the elder Grangers split themselves between thinking and driving. Henrietta, ever the sharp one, understood what was said and looked to Henrietta sadly, mumbling a small apology which the mage accepted silently.

However, after an extended period of time, more or less an hour, the silence was broken by a good-natured question from Hermione. “What’s your favourite book?” she asked out of the blue. A sigh could be heard from the front half of the car.

“Um, excuse me?” asked Henrietta.

“Hermione is quite the bookworm,” Jean supplied.

“Um, I don’t know,” Henrietta replied honestly. “I’ve read a few books on magic and history, and I like them. Salazar’s grimoire is quite interesting, though he told me I am not allowed to learn battle-magic... yet. Apparently, the Suffocation Curse is too old for me.”

A strangled cough could be heard from the front of the car.

“No, I mean storybooks,” Hermione answered, looking only a bit nervous at the mage’s comment.

“Hmm… I don’t have many,” Henrietta said thoughtfully. “I did like _Paphnutius_. It was a fun little play, even have a translated version of it back at the Snake Pit.”

“I’ve never heard of Pa-fa-nuits?” the muggleborn said, trying to pronounce the unfamiliar word.

“ _Paphnutius_ ,” she corrected, “It was written long ago, so I can understand why you haven’t read it. What about you?”

“I like _Matilda_ and _Mrs Dalloway_.”

“I’ve never read them.”

“You haven’t!?” Hermione shrieked, causing the other three to cringe at the sound. A quick chide from her mother and an apology later, she continued, “What about _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ , or _The Lorax_ , or-or...”

“Nope.”

“Mum!” Hermione cried. “Henrietta hasn’t read any new books! We need to get her some.”

Another sigh graced the lips of Jean Granger as she said, “Hermione, please wait until we get home. You have books there.”

“But Mum! Please, please, please, please, please! You promised that we could buy a book on our way home, could we please buy something for Henrietta!” What followed was a loud and long back and forth between Hermione and her parents. It lasted for about a minute, not that Henrietta was keeping count, but eventually, the adults relented to their child’s wish when she began to tear up. Throughout the entire event, Henrietta had watched curiously, part of her unable to understand what was going on; comparatively, Dudley would have gotten his wish after the second ‘please’.

They continued driving, passing fields, farms, and a town or two. Henrietta had been getting a bit sleepy as the car drove along, but before she could succumb to sleep, Ian Granger pulled into a car park inside a town whose name she did not know. Looking around wildly to get some sense of what was going on, she found that they were outside a string of shops, some of which consists of a deli, a clothes shops, a bakery and finally a bookshop.

“Come on, kids, let’s buy some books,” said Ian, unbuckling his seatbelt, and left the vehicle.

An excited squeal from Hermione, who practically lunged out of the car, later, and the Grangers' plus one exited the car and followed Ian as he headed towards the bookstore. Inside, Henrietta could not help but feel the same excitement that the other Magi was feeling; several books lined bookshelves and display cases with many more books being stacked atop each other. A fairly young man stood at the desk, flicking through a comic book lazily, only sparing a single moment to glance at them.

Before Hermione could drag off Henrietta, though, Ian pulled the Magi off to the side, “Before I let Hermione drag you off, I wanted to ask if you knew anything about magical books or anything like that.”

“I don’t know, Mr Granger,” Henrietta said, “All the books on magic I have at my disposal are from a thousand years prior. And while it might look like a vast well of knowledge, it isn’t as large as one might think. Out of all the books that… Anguis owns, only a third are based on actual spells and magical theory. The rest are made up of books on different subjects; some pertaining to magic, but not what you’re looking for, and the rest based around the world at the time.”

Ian looked at the girl strangely. “You know, you don’t talk like a child your age should...”

Henrietta reacted unperturbed by the observation, smiling sweetly. “So I’ve been told.”

Blinking a few times, the elder Granger replied, “...even the talking painting thinks it’s weird?”

“Yep.”

“That's… worrying.” He sighed, before looking around the room. “Anyway, books.”

“We could try and ask around for some books on magic,” she said, “If we can’t find any books on magic written by magical people, we could find some muggle written books based around magic.”

“Hm… We could. It’s possible that fantasy books could have been based on the real deal… Go run along with Hermione, she looks a bit impatient. I’ll deal with the magical… stuff.”

With a nod of the head, Henrietta quickly joined Hermione who wasted no time in dragging of the young Magi off to gawk over the books available.

Hermione then spent the next ten to twenty minutes pulling the Magi around the room, looking at books from multiple time periods. It seemed that the girl had an opinion on almost a quarter of the bookstores stock, though this did not stop the girl from keeping a lookout for anything magical or magic related. Unfortunately, they were mostly fantasy books.

Eventually, Henrietta had been prompted by Hermione to choose a book to buy. Of course, she had all the recommended books that the muggle-born had given, but one had caught her eye: _Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos_. Strangely enough, and in no way did it influence her choice, but Hermione had _not_ read it.

Soon the elder Granger came and swooped up the two Magi to purchase their selections. On top of the book, Henrietta had chosen, Hermione had also picked out _Witch Week_ and _Narnia_ , while Ian had chosen quite a few more, such as _The Hobbit_ , _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, and a manual for _Advanced Dungeons and Dragons_. Ian had defended his choice by stating the first two were the forerunners of the genre while the latter was based heavily on magic.

With their purchases in hand, they left back to their car, restarting the drive home. Henrietta did not know how long it would have taken to get to the muggles home as she had fallen asleep as the rumble of the engine lulled her to sleep.

When the quartet arrived at the Grangers' residence, the sun had begun setting, which did not mean much considering that it had been passed noon when they all had met each other. Eventually, they arrived at the house and woke their guest. Exiting the car with sleepy eyes, Hermione lead Henrietta inside.

“Did you have a nice sleep?” Jean asked, packing away a small container that had been filled with some camp provisions.

Henrietta nodded mutely, looking around the familiar yet alien homestead. She couldn’t help but superimpose the Dursleys’ residence on top of the Grangers’. It was an odd experience, to say the least, especially as it was not the perfectly manicured household that Aunt Petunia loved so much. She could safely say that the house looked lived in compared to her previous muggle residence. But the similarities were still there, from the telly to the kitchen appliances and so forth.

“Go on, Hermione, why don’t you take our guest up to your room and have some time to yourselves,” Jean said. Upon seeing the grin on Hermione’s lips, she added quickly, “No magic! No magic, though.”

With a pout, Hermione led Henrietta to her room. Hermione’s room was by no means small, but neither was it large, reminding her a bit of Dudley’s. However, the comparison ended there; instead of being a mess, it was quite clean, instead of being filled with toys, there was only a few, off in a corner by a large chest. Another difference was the large quantity of books that Hermione had.

All Henrietta could think, was that she was in Heaven.

...

Dinner at the Grangers was quite nice, much better than what she got at the Snake Pit. She had never tasted Spaghetti Bolognaise in her life, thanks to the Dursley’s, but now that she had tasted it, she wished Balor could learn the recipe. They ate with the white noise that was Hermione hyperactively sharing what happened inside her room with their guest, which mostly contained synopsis about what she was reading and what Henrietta had been reading. Moreso the tomb she had been reading.

It was enjoyable to the mage as everything felt livelier than her time in the Snake Pit, especially as the only things she and Salazar spoke about were her Magical studies. Though, the brunette’s parents seemed far more dismayed by the complete disregard for breathing Hermione was currently practising as she spoke without pause at quite a fast pace. Fortunately, an interruption occurred during the latter half of dinner.

A pop sounded out in the dining room of the Grangers' residence, causing the collected family to jump in shock. For Henrietta, who was used to this, just turned to face the House Elf with an excited gleam in her eye.

Balor stood, still dressed in his odd clothing, with a large trunk by his side. Atop the trunk was a suspiciously snake-like coil, sitting innocently. “Balor has done as Mistress Potter has asked, he has.”

“Thank you,” she replied, hopping up from the dinner table towards the trunk. Once there, she looked to the coil before hissing, “How was the ride, Mara?”

It then unfurled itself, looking up to the speaker in a lazy fashion, “ _It was… unsettling, lady speaker. Though I am tired from a filling meal_.” With that, the snake curled back up.

_Lazy snake_. Henrietta thought good-naturedly. “Mara, you can’t sleep there. I need to open it up! On my arm.”

“ _If I must, Lady Speaker,_ ” Mara said, before doing as directed.

“What are you hissing at?” It seemed her little hissing match had drawn the attention of the Grangers. She cursed silently. Henrietta doubted it would be a good idea, regardless of whether they were muggles or not, to tell them that she could talk to snakes. The legless creatures always had a bad reputation around Man.

“Mara,” Henrietta said slowly, an excuse quickly forming in her mind, “I like to pretend I am talking to Mara.”

“The… snake?” one of the Granger’s asked.

“Yep,” she replied, holding her arm up for the family to see.

It took a second for them to finally notice what they were looking at and it did help that Mara rose up to stare at the family that was currently gaping at her. Unfortunately, they were not as receptive to Mara as she had hoped. Jean asked scandalously, “You brought a snake here!?”

“Don’t worry, she’s nice. Hasn’t bitten me since I met her all those years ago. She’s my only friend.”

Ian Granger looked quite uncomfortable, all three did, though Hermione looked more openminded about their scaly guest. Eventually, after a bit of heated whispering, they allowed Mara to stay. Though, there was the condition that the snake had to be with Henrietta at all times, or in the trunk – or an enclosure, once they could afford one.

After placating the Grangers', she set about digging through her trunk. It was a fairly normal trunk with worn leather and wood, and a faded silver and green insignia of House Slytherin. Inside was split into two categories, one being the spare clothing, the other was for studying; a supply of ink and quills, her personal grimoires, quite a few textbooks and grimoires, and a small painting depicting a pitch-black room.

Soon, however, the room was filled with a single person, Salazar, “I trust the muggles are treating you well?”

“Yes, they have been kind,” Henrietta replied.

“Who are you talking to now?” asked Ian.

“Anguis. He can travel to any linked painting, like this one,” Henrietta explained.

“I suppose it’s better than interrogating a little girl about magic,” mumbled Ian.

...

Ian was walking down the hall after finishing his business in the toilet when he paused just outside Hermione’s room. It was quite quiet inside, which was not normally odd as his daughter was usually like this when reading a book, but at this time it was strange considering their guest. Pushing the already ajar door further open to peek inside, he found Henrietta and Hermione each sitting on their individual beds, reading overly thick books. From where he stood, he could see that their guest was reading what looked to be the Lord of the Rings Omnibus, and his daughter reading a nameless and ancient book that he assumed contained arcane knowledge.

_Oh, the snake’s reading over Henrietta’s shoulder as well…_ he thought absently as he continued to watch, glassy-eyed, at the two. But they paid him no mind, only pausing to flip the page occasionally. Exaggerated horror dawned as he stepped away from the room, “There’s two of them” he whispered, walking away and into the living room.

Jean had been sitting down in her armchair, a notepad in hand, as she listed to the painting speak. She and her husband had been talking adamantly to the piece of art, keeping record of everything that sounded important; considering they were talking about real, working magic… there was a lot. Anguis had insisted that they talk about the world as it was now, but both she and her husband had been incessant on learning as much as they could about magic and how it would affect her daughter, directly or indirectly. However, they had broached the subject of Henrietta’s previous guardians just as Ian left to the loo.

“What do you know about Henrietta’s aunt and uncle?” she asked, using the same professional tone she had been using for the entirety of their conversation.

Anguis face darkened as he regarded her, “Not much, other than the fact that they had abused her in a way that could have been dangerous to both her and those around her.”

A shiver coursed down Jean’s spine. “That’s about as much as we know as well. I had thoughts on calling the police to deal with the family, but… well… magic.”

“Who are the ‘police’?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Ah, well, considering what I have found out about the state of the world now, I would say that it was a good idea to stay your hand. I would assume that they would investigate Lady Potter?”

“...Yes,”

“It would cause several complications if it did happen,” Anguis continued. “At the moment, I am a bit… uncomfortable with the whole ordeal of people assuming magic to be mere tricks and sleight of hand. I won’t have to run into any anti-magic bigots, but I have to deal with keeping it quiet until Henrietta is ready. I’ve seen muggles attack the unknown out of fear, and I would hate for my ward and your daughter to get into the crossfire of… eight billion people...”  he whispered awed.

When her husband returned, she had put aside her notepad and began massaging her temples, cursing magic forever coming into their lives. Upon noticing his stunned expression, she got worried, but it was no her that broached the subject, “Is everything okay?” Anguis asked.

“There’s two of them...” he said dully.

Without much more to go on, Jean’s mind ran into overdrive, today's revelations making her instantly think magic. _Did they clone themselves? Did she turn into my daughter? Did she turn my daughter into her?_ These were the thoughts that ran through her mind as she moved from her armchair to Hermione’s room in a flash.

Upon peeking in, she found the two sitting on the bed, reading too thick books, larger than any book a child should be with. Realisation dawned as she whispered, “Oh God, you’re right… there’s two of them...”

...

Soon, the girl’s ‘bedtime’ approached and the elder Grangers took Henrietta and Hermione to their bedroom, before tucking the two in and saying their ‘goodnights’. Soon, the bedroom was bathed in darkness as the lights were turned off.

Henrietta had buried herself in her blankets, savouring the pleasant feel of the modern fabrics. Her breath slowed as she slowly drifted off to sleep. However, sleep seemed to not find her, as she found herself inexplicably at the entryway of a familiar house where a messy haired man with glasses stood before her.

“Lily, take Henrietta and go! It’s him! I’ll try and hold him off!” the man cried, reaching for his wand in his pocket. Her lips twisted cruelly as she raised her own yew wand, faster than he could.

“ _Crucio_!” She hissed, chuckling as the being before her fell to the floor writhing in agonising pain, but he held strong under the curse and did not scream. With a cry of “ _Avarda Kedavra_!” a flash of green and the sound of rushing wind, the body stilled. Smiling at her work, she turned towards the staircase. Wandlessly and wordlessly she cast the flying transfiguration charm to transform into a cloud of black viscous smoke and glide up the stairs.

Another door barred her path, but it was easily blasted off its hinges revealing her goal: the prophesized child, destined to be her end, lying in a crib. Her cruel smirk turned sour as she noticed another being, an adult female with blazing red hair and emerald eyes, protecting the child with her body. The filthy mudblood that held one of her follower's loyalty.

"Not Henrietta! Please no, not Henrietta! I'll do anything!" begged the filth.

She sneered at the action, "Stand aside you silly girl… stand aside now.” She had promised that she would not kill the mudblood and a part of her wanted to make good on her promise.

"Not Henrietta, please no, take me, kill me instead," The mudblood begged again, her voice croaking as she sobbed, her head bowing as she pleaded, "Not Henrietta! Please… have mercy…"

Thoughts of simply stunning the filth in front of her passed by, but seeing the mudblood lower herself this far annoyed her. So, with a lightning bolt shaped flick of her wand, she cast the unforgivable. “ _Avarda Kedavra_!”

Another flash of green light and the mudblood fell to the floor dead. The prophecies child began to cry in its crib. So odd that it only started crying after its mother was silenced instead of when the filth was screaming, pleading for mercy.

The sound of the baby’s cries grated on her ears as she turned to the child in the crib. _How such a creature could ever grow up to defeat me…_ she thought, looking at the baby with wary eyes. Briefly, she thought of simply taking the baby and giving it to one of her followers, perhaps Bellatrix- no, Lucius. He would be a better choice, after all, he and his wife had a spawn of their own. She might trust Bellatrix, but the woman's insanity would be a negative influence on the tot, though at least she was loyal. Terrifyingly loyal. The thought was tempting, using the child as a weapon against her enemies.

But as she went down to brush her fingers against the child's cheek, a powerful burning sensation shot through her hands. Shrinking away from the creature with a hiss of pain, she looked at the damage. The fingers that touched the child were burnt, near charcoal.

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the child. _So this is how it was to kill me? What were they going to do, throw the baby at me? Make it give me a hug?_ She thought mockingly, though her expression did not waver from her sneer. With that thought, she went back to her original plan, to use the child as the sacrifice to further ensure her immortality.

Raising her wand carelessly, she cast her signature spell. The second the words left her lips, the room was filled with a bright green light.

The last thing she remembered was the most unbearable pain that she had ever felt. It was as if her body was being ripped apart at the atomic level as her veins were filled with molten lead. But the most painful part was not physical, but on a different plane entirely; the pain of her soul being ripped from her corporeal body, torn asunder by the effects of the spell.

Henrietta awoke screaming as this pain racked through her body as the familiar cottage transformed into Hermione’s room, waking everyone in the Grangers' residence.


End file.
